Beauty

I live in a place where beauty is disgraced. Where the dull are praised. The queen is the only exception. She is said to hold beauty beyond imagination. At age 16 if you are known to have admirable qualities your town turns you in. No one knows where they go. They just disappear.

I wouldn't call myself ugly, I might even dare to say I'm beautiful, though no one would know. Ever since I was little, I wore cloaks and dirt. So much dirt you could hardly see my face. If someone didn't know any better, they would think me a boy. I don't mind the cloak or the dirt, but having to stay so close to home, to a town that hates everyone and everything. That is where I struggle. I reckon I haven't even walked a mile of my town. The only time I leave is when we need food. Yes, my father could get it but if I never did go outside it would look too suspicious. Like we are hiding something (or someone).